Good Luck with the Lion
by okayokay
Summary: When you’re around someone like Tumbler and they start getting sick, I guess you just blame yourself. I wasn’t no bacteria and I didn’t give Tumbler bad food or take him by sick people, but I just told myself it was my fault anyways. Oneshot Skittery POV


_Random oneshot from Skittery's point of view describing Tumbler's death. _

**GOOD LUCK WITH THE LION**

He was always little. I don't know, maybe he was just little because he was young. But when we all walked into the bunk room that one day he looked even smaller. I was never too good at lying and when all the other guys were laughing and trying to make Tumbler feel better, I just watched. They told him he looked better than yesterday and the day before and how they all couldn't wait for him to get out selling again 'cause he hustled the old ladies so well. I stood over by the bathrooms and looked in the mirror. I was sweating and I was real tired. There were new lines in my face that I wasn't used to seeing and it made me nauseous. Finally, the guys all left to go to Medda's or Tibby's. I wasn't sure. I got a drink of water and started to walk over to Tumbler's bunk.

Tumbler had this fucking blanket. It was all torn and stained but he didn't let anyone touch it the damned thing but him. One time Kloppman tried the wash it and Tumbler bit him. Anyway, Tumbler was clinging to the blanket. He knew when people were lying and when all the other newsies were telling him how good he looked, Tumbler just knew he looked twenty times worse. That's why I figured I'd just be honest with him.

"You look like shit, kid." I said and sat on a bunk across from him. Tumbler just nodded, and even that looked like it hurt him.

He had started feeling bad a week ago. We had been selling over by the docks and he just started fucking puking. I just figured he'd ate something bad but then he started getting real cold later. Then he started puking up blood and that scared me. I told him to stay in bed and that's what he'd been doing for the past three days. Now he couldn't even move without yelling in pain. When you're around someone like Tumbler and they start getting sick, I guess you just blame yourself. I wasn't no bacteria and I didn't give Tumbler bad food or take him by sick people, but I just told myself it was my fault anyways.

What I did was sell a bunch of papers. I don't know how I did it. I think Jack and all them sort of stopped selling so I could sell more, you know? But I sold a shit load. Enough for a doctor. And doctor's aren't cheap. I got the doc to come see Tumbler at the lodging house. He hunched over the bed, the doctor did for a long time. Looking in Tumbler's eyes and looking in his ears and having him cough and listening to him breathe and asking questions. Tumbler was real mad about the whole thing, I mean, getting a doctor. I told him all the guys had pitched in, which I guess wasn't that big of a lie, but Tumbler knew it was just me anyway. It was hard to watch Tumbler being prodded like that so I waited in the lobby where Kloppman usually signed us in.

Eventually the doctor came back down. He was clicking his tongue like a fucking idiot and wouldn't tell me what was wrong until I asked.

"He's dying, young man. He probably has about three days left. It's a serious virus that must are immune to. Remarkable he caught it so severely." The doctor said real despondent like.

"Yeah, it's really fucking remarkable." I said and tried to pay him but he wouldn't take the damn money.

Anyway, it'd been three days since the doctor came.

I hadn't sold any papes since then. I just smoked a lot and kept drinking. Everyone always talks about how getting drunk just numbs your feelings, but that's bullshit. It makes you feel better. It makes you feel warm again. Like your best friend isn't dying. And then you get a hangover, but the headache and the throwing up is worth feeling invincible for a few hours.

"I don't want them to see me, okay?" Tumbler said, trying to look at me, but he couldn't turn his head too well.

"What?"

"I don't want all the other newsies to see me all dead, lying here. I sure don't want to die here. Take me somewhere other than this shithole." Tumbler said.

I tried to say something, but I couldn't. I can always say something. Something funny or mean, but now I couldn't. It was the first time Tumbler had cursed, but what hurt me more was that it was probably the last. I had never really felt tears rolling down my face, but I did then. Before, I'd always just cried when I laughed too hard, and even though I was kind of smiling because Tumbler said shit, I wasn't laughing.

I jumped off the bunk I was sitting on and pulled Tumbler out of his sheets. I knew it was probably hurting him, moving, I mean. I held him like a baby, cradled, you know. He still clung to his dumb fucking blanket and I turned to walk down the stairs and out of the lodging house. The rest of the newsies were down there, in the lobby, and they were all quiet. They asked me where I was taking Tumbler and that I was crazy and going to die because I didn't have a jacket on. I just shrugged at them, because I really didn't care.

When we were walking down the street Tumbler's eyes were closed, but I knew he was still okay because he was clinching my arm with one of his hands. I probably looked like a fucking mad man, walking down the street with this kid in my arms who clearly was sick in the freezing cold weather. But the world could fuck themselves, because in my arms was the only person in the world who had listened to every demented and crazy thought I had, to every idea that was sure to land us in deep shit, to every whisper in the night when I couldn't sleep, and every drunken slurr that no one else could understand. And he hadn't even hit puberty.

"You know the Menagerie, in central park? With the monkey and that lion?" I asked.

Tumbler nodded.

"That's where we're going."

Tumbler smiled. I knew he was crazy about those animals. He always dragged me up there and we sat there for a billion hours and Tumbler strutted around the lion and hopped around like the monkey and I just watched the keepers pick up the animal's shit.

It wasn't very far and we got there right after it started to snow. The gates were closed because it was past closing time and it was dark. I kept kicking the dumb gate until one of it's locked broke and the small door flung open. There was a bench in the middle of the two cages, the lion and the monkey, and we sat there. Tumbler was in my lap and I fixed his sheet so it was pulled over him more. There was snow all over me and I was freezing cold as fuck, but I don't know, I couldn't really feel it. The animals weren't out. They were hiding in their cages inside.

"The lions watching us." I glanced down at Tumbler, trying to see if he knew I was lying. His eyes were still closed and he was real close to me, I guess to keep warm, but I knew he was listening. "I think he has a crush on me." I heard Tumbler let out a little laugh, but it turned into a cough. "We'd probably have nice looking kids. A little hairy, but you'se could fix that with a razor or somethin'. Also, I'se would have to work 'cause I don't think they allow lions in the work place. Kind of danger-"

"Shut up, Skittery." Tumbler said and I ruffled his hair and it was all wet from the snow. "Now, don't interrupt me, okay? And don't pretend I'm not dying because you know I am and so do I." He paused, making sure I heard him. "There's sack under my bed, and it's got shoes and things in it, in one of the shoes there's money. A lot of money. You take it. I don't care what you do with it, just don't go drink with that money or smoke with it or get a hooker. Okay?" He asked.

"You'se got it." I said.

"Alright. Also, in the bag there's a book with addresses. The first three are of my mom. Write all of them and tell her I'm sorry, but don't tell her I died." Tumbler paused again, waiting to make sure I heard.

"No problem."

"Okay, and then could ya punch Kid Blink for me?" He asked.

"What?"

"Punch Blink. He farted on me the other day and it was gross." Tumbler said, opening his eyes enough to see me smiling and nodding my head.

"Of course I'se will." I said and he closed his eyes again.

Right then I saw a police officer walking through the broken gate and yelling at us. He was kind of running, but he was a little too fat to reach a peak speed. Tumbler's grasp on me was kind of softening and I couldn't feel him breathing as much.

"I love you, Skittery." Tumbler said quietly as the cop was getting closer.

"Get out of here, okay? Because I'se about get busted by a chubby cop." I aid and then I paused a moment. "I'se love you too, Tumbler. Put in a good word for me okay?"

Tumbler nodded and opened his mouth. It was real quiet but I thought I heard him saysomething.

"Good luck with the lion."

* * *

**A/N;**

_Kind of unrealistic, I know. But I was bored. Hope you enjoyed and could follow that._


End file.
